


The Hunt

by violent_ends



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Bisexual Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Dirty Talk, Established Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, F/M, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Oral Sex, POV Chloe, POV Chloe Decker, Post-Devil Face Reveal to Chloe Decker, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Threesome - F/M/M, Undercover As Gay, Voice Kink, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-21 13:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violent_ends/pseuds/violent_ends
Summary: Lucifer goes undercover in a gay bar to obtain information about a regular while Chloe listens in from the surveillance van. Things take an unexpected turn when she realizes that justhearinghim flirt with men is not nearly enough.[Chloe knows; established Deckerstar]





	1. The Devil In Me

**Author's Note:**

> Or: me shamelessly fulfilling my own fantasy of seeing Lucifer make out with a dude for real instead of having it hinted at us, because _yum._

It’s not like Chloe wants it to happen, of course; a principle that applies to a lot of events in her life, maybe too many. Things _happen_ to her, and not only things, but people: she’s in love with the Devil, for Heaven's sake (a sentence that doesn’t sound right, she’s well aware).

This time, the unexpected knocks at her door in the form of a suspect on the run or in hiding: no sign of him at his house or at any of his relatives’ residences, no clue from his friends and colleagues about where he might have gone. Some of them could be helping him, she knows, and that’s why she can’t blow this last chance with a normal police interrogation and decided to opt for going undercover instead. Or better, letting her _partner_ go undercover while she listens in from a surveillance van parked not too far.

He wears a tight black T-shirt tonight, tucked inside a pair of dark blue jeans, the fabric hugging the muscles of his shoulders and arms and back in a way his suits, as tailored on his frame as they are, never quite manage to do. Hair coiffed up in a stylish wave as usual, stubble obsessively trimmed to perfection, he sits at the bar inside the suspect’s favorite club and Chloe knows the air in the room has shifted to accomodate the weight of his presence, no matter how carefree and playful he has to pretend to be tonight.

It’s stupid, she knows, because he was just Lucifer before and he still _is_, but he is also _more_, since she found out. More beautiful, when he kisses her in the dim glow of the lights of his penthouse; more dangerous, when he unclenches his grip from the chains firmly wrapped around the wrath trapped in his chest like a prisoner. All of this is in Chloe’s head, of course: the rest of the world, including the patrons of this gay bar, naturally gravitates toward him without fully knowing why, without even _wondering_, like planets orbit around the sun without rejecting its pull because it is, quite simply, what they are supposed to be doing.

His temptation is not towards evil, she has finally come to understand, but desire: and if it’s evil you desire, temptation turns to punishment like ashes in your mouth.

Tonight he doesn’t have to punish, though, but seduce, convincingly enough to obtain some piece of information about where the suspect might be, since he comes here almost thrice a week, according to his co-workers. Men come and go to and from the stool next to Lucifer for the good part of an hour, trying to get him to dance with them or do more, but once they let him know they are not acquainted with their possible murderer, he finds a graceful excuse to refuse their attentions and moves on to the next suitor like a king holding court.

“This is such a waste of my devilish charms, Detective" he mutters when he remains alone at the counter, and inside the van Chloe rolls her eyes as if he could see her.

Then yet another guy approaches him, as Chloe listens in thanks to the bug inside Lucifer’s shirt.

“Hi, handsome" he greets as many others have done before tonight, boosting her partner and lover’s already outsized ego. “How come you’re all alone?”

“Blind date" she hears Lucifer reply, as per script, “but it seems the guy stood me up. Can you believe that?”

The last part is all pure Luciferness, of course, which earns another eye-roll (she’s lost count of how many she does in a day). The part before is kind of a lie but Lucifer would say he _did_ come here to look for the man in question without having seen him before, and the man didn’t appear. His way of playing and dancing around the truth gets a bit fuzzy with the rules when it comes to work, because otherwise sting operations would simply fall apart.

“Well, remind me to send him a ‘thank you' note, then,” quips the guy, “because he got you to come here.”

A chuckle, flattered but seductive at the same time, then the rustling of fabric as – Chloe assumes – the guy properly sits next to where Lucifer is drinking.

“I might actually let you, so he'll know what he’s missing out on. Too bad I don’t know his address, though. All I know is that he’s a regular here.”

It’s always a bit too on the nose to slip a person’s name into the conversation, so Lucifer doesn’t, hoping the guy will ask more about the man who didn’t show. Instead, he moves on from it to work his own angle, which presumably leads inside Lucifer’s jeans (_Jeans, Detective? What am I, a highschooler?_).

“I'm Adam, by the way" he says.

“Oh, what a _lovely_ name" Lucifer comments, knowing Chloe will get the sarcasm behind it; the kind of inside joke that makes her smile tenderly and feel special. “Same as an old friend of mine. But deary me, where are my manners? I'm Lu.”

Another clever half-truth, and a necessary one, considering there is only one Lucifer Morningstar on planet Earth.

“You’re not from here" aptly named Adam offers to start a whole new conversation, and Chloe finds herself almost zoning out, realizing this night might turn out to be a complete waste of time _and_ Lucifer’s charms.

“Perceptive, aren't you?” he jokes. “No, I moved here a couple of years back. Needed a breath of fresh air. You'd think dating would help me start over, but that clearly isn’t working out, either. Remind me never to trust a guy named Kevin again.”

It’s kind of a bold move but Chloe can tell he is growing impatient too, so she doesn’t find it in herself to chastise him for it.

“So that’s the name of the fool that broke your heart!” Adam exclaims, a lilt of amusement in his voice before his tone suddenly turns conspiratorial. “Please tell me it’s not Kevin Wheeler. That guy is a _mess_.”

Chloe sits up on her chair inside the van, the name shaking her from a numbness that was threatening to turn to full-out sleepiness.

“The very same" Lucifer replies, and she can sense that he's suddenly more attentive and calculating, even though he still sounds completely natural. “So, dodged a bullet there, eh?”

“Oh, _totally_. A gold digger of the worst kind! He’s all about his sugar daddy and his fancy beach house. Won’t stop bragging about spending entire weekends there."

Could he be hiding in said beach house as they speak? Chloe feels grateful for Adam’s gossiping nature and the fact that, apparently, the regulars of the bar can’t or won’t keep secrets from one another.

“Sugar daddies and beach houses? So L.A.” Lucifer quips, and Chloe can almost _see_ the playful grin on his face as he says it, thanks to how attuned she is to his speech pattern and expressions now.

“More like Santa Barbara, but you get the idea.”

_Bingo_. Well, a name of the residence’s owner might actually be helpful, but a place is still a start. Maybe they should call it a night. Chloe is about to say just that into the microphone tucked inside Lucifer’s ear, but Adam is speaking again and she doesn’t want Lucifer to look distracted.

“Now, why don’t we stop talking about him and focus on how I can make you feel better?”

The sharp intake of breath that follows is ridiculously unmistakable to her and speaks volumes about their level of intimacy, something she can’t help but feel proud of. Adam has his hand on Lucifer’s thigh, probably inching closer and closer to his crotch. Chloe knows that Lucifer knows how to turn him down as he’s been doing the whole night, but she has the feeling he’s not done inquiring about Wheeler, and as long as he isn’t uncomfortable, she’s not one to get in the way of good police work.

And her resolve, of course, is entirely unrelated to how deep Lucifer’s voice suddenly sounds once he replies.

“Oh, I can only imagine," he muses in a sultry tone, “but why just imagine? Come here, let me get a taste.”

A gasp fills Chloe’s headphones and ears, this time from Adam, followed by the sounds of lips meeting and breaking apart. She echoes it with one of her own, pinned to the spot by the turn of events, realizing only now that Lucifer was up for this, for playing this part, because… he likes it. Likes _men_, too. Somehow she forgot, because it’s not like he brings it up all the time – or at all. Now that they are together, he is actually very careful in not mentioning his endless list of past lovers.

But the most shocking thing of this entire situation is the tingle of arousal that shoots straight through her and settles between her legs as she tries to imagine what she can’t see: Lucifer kissing a man, his hands finding stubble (probably? Okay, just maybe) instead of smooth skin when they cup the guy’s face, two sets of masculine jaws fighting for dominance with their hard lines that plunge into long, taut necks.

She doesn’t even know how Adam looks but she doesn’t need to give him a face for her imagination to start running wild, picturing Lucifer’s body entangled with another that mirrors his own, the skin of the other man’s back pulled tight over muscle and bone as Lucifer sucks possessive marks into his broad shoulders, broader than hers but quivering with the same kind of pleasure and rapture under the Devil's fingers, his mouth, the deliciously slow, languid thrusts of his hips.

Chloe crosses her legs almost absentmindedly to rub her thighs together but is shocked back into reality when, with a wet pop (Lucifer releasing the guy’s bottom lip, she just _knows_ it), the kissing comes to an end.

“Mmm, we _really_ should send this Kevin a ‘thank you' note" Lucifer purrs with a voice that could melt ice. “Or maybe to his sugar daddy. I'll make sure to have a fruit basket delivered to his lovely home.”

It’s meant as a joke, of course, but Chloe can tell Adam has fallen under a spell that has nothing to do with his eye mojo and everything to do with tasting Lucifer’s talented tongue in his mouth.

“Oh, I- I don’t think it would make it past Travis Grant's security, you know. The guy is obsessed with being stalked.”

Chloe laughs quietly to herself – leave it to Lucifer to get exactly what he wants without even having to _ask_ for it. The lead might be a dead end, but it’s a lead nonetheless, and it’s the first time the name pops up in the investigation: a relationship kept almost completely secret is suspicious enough to be at least worth looking into. Mission accomplished… and fantasy acquired.

“Shame" Lucifer comments. “And a shame that I must go now, too.”

Adam protests (why wouldn’t he? God, those lips) but Lucifer makes up an excuse about having to work tomorrow – which isn’t technically a lie except for the fact that he always comes in late, so it’s not like late night activities would get in the way of his schedule.

“It’s been a pleasure, Adam. I truly hope you get everything you _desire_ out of life" he says before heading out, the word always more sinful than it probably was intended to sound when it dances in the air to the musical sound of his voice.

Chloe shakes herself from her reverie and tries to will the tingling sensation away, knowing that Lucifer is now approaching the van. Grateful to be alone in the back with all the surveillance equipment, she clears her throat and feels almost sure that her breathing is now under control; that is, until Lucifer climbs inside next to her in the small space and she can _see_ his kiss-swollen lips, not to mention admire his unusual attire again.

“Right, that went well" he comments after a sigh, clapping his hands together before flopping down in the chair next to Chloe’s. He turns towards her then, an uncertain expression on his face.

“I… I hope what you heard didn’t upset you, Detective" he says quietly, his tone apologetic. “I'm just very committed to the job, is all.”

Chloe tries to speak and reassure him, but her mouth works around air without actually making a sound, which Lucifer misunderstands for barely concealed anger.

“Detective?” he inquires, increasingly worried. “I apologize, I just wanted to-"

“_That_” Chloe finally manages to squeak and cut him off, “was hot as Hell, Lucifer. Pardon the pun.”

He looks taken aback, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, before his usual smugness clicks back into place.

“Oh. I see" he grins, reaching back with his arms to cup his head from behind while he stretches his long legs in front of him, occupying all the space available. A pause, and then, “Would you like to… _see_ it, perhaps, instead of just listening?”

They should focus on the case, a quiet voice in her head tries to remind her, but the majority of her brain is suddenly filled with a variety of possibilities that were not there before because Chloe didn’t know she _wanted_ them to be. And now she’s here, in a van parked outside a gay bar, and her boyfriend – who is Satan in the flesh, let’s not forget – has just asked her if she wants to see him kiss another man.

And she does. But she also knows something else, a boundary she doesn’t want to be crossed.

“Just… not… at the penthouse? Not where we… you know.”

It’s honestly pointless considering that half of L.A. has graced Lucifer’s bed before her, but no one else did since they became _Lucifer and Chloe_, an entity with a new meaning, connected by a bond stronger than the one between partners or friends. It’s only her now, and sometimes she wonders if it’s enough for Lucifer, but until he says otherwise she wants the penthouse to be _theirs_ to sleep and laugh and cook and fuck in; every surface alight with fire where he spins and pushes and bends her, erasing nail scratches and fingerprints of all the ones who came before as if cleaning up a crime scene.

“Of course, darling" Lucifer agrees, his tone softer. “I can invite a friend to Lux, or… we could come back here together.”

A friend means someone he has already slept with, most likely, and that won’t do. Plus, it’s the thrill of the chase that Chloe likes to see in him, the way he can take what he wants when he wants it from someone he didn’t know a moment before. Someone he will probably never run into again, after.

“Here is perfect” she decides.

*

He refuses to wear the same outfit he had while undercover, but Chloe knows it’s not the clothes that attract men and women to him like moths to a flame. He loses the jacket, though, settling for a light blue buttoned shirt over dark blue pants. She has a black top with a boat neckline tucked into a red miniskirt (not her first choice for when she goes out, but she feels bolder tonight) and a pair of slightly heeled black boots, hair left loose over her shoulders.

They walk into the gay bar side by side and settle at the bar again, Chloe sitting on a stool while Lucifer remains standing, to lean against the counter and scan the room. The place is not packed but the dancefloor is fairly busy: couples, groups of friends, people who clearly just met and are slowly becoming more acquainted with each other.

Chloe orders the first fruity cocktail that comes to her mind and, once she has it in her hand, turns on the stool to look at them, carefree as they let the music dictate the rhythm of their movements. Lucifer doesn’t say anything for a while, just stares ahead, and Chloe distantly wonders when he'll make a move on someone – or why no one is making a move on _him_, now that she thinks about it.

“It appears we didn’t think this through, Detective” he finally announces, a bit louder than he would normally but not actually yelling. “You’re spooking them.”

Oh. He might have a point. But she’s not even touching him: is it really that obvious that they are together?

“You make it sound like we’re on a hunting trip” she scoffs instead, amused by his choice of wording.

“Aren’t we?” Lucifer purrs suggestively, arching an eyebrow at her with a sly grin. “Come on, turn around again. Act like you don’t know me.”

“Seriously?”

“Do you want this to work or not? Shoo now, chop chop.”

Chloe glares at him but complies, still looking at him out of the corner of her eye. It all starts to feel a bit ridiculous and she finds herself with nothing to do as she waits: maybe she should try flirting with a woman, who knows how Lucifer will react to that. Well, she does know it: he would certainly encourage it and Chloe would have to make a fool of herself and decline, not interested in going through with it. Fine, waiting in silence it is.

But fortunately, it doesn’t take long for Lucifer to settle on someone he likes: Chloe can see it in the way his head moves to take in the expanse of the dancefloor, before snapping back and stopping to stare at a specific point for longer. His piercing, inviting leer is all the chosen guy needs to approach him, slowly invading his personal space to speak in his ear, standing exactly between him and Chloe.

“I saw you looking at me" he says loudly, to be heard over the music. He has dark brown hair, slightly curly, and the cut of his jaw is not that different from Lucifer’s but his stubble is less prominent, just lightly covering the bottom part of his chin and cheeks. He seems a bit younger than Lucifer appears to be (and definitely younger than he really is, but aren’t they all?); a good-looking guy by all standards, and Chloe wonders if he’s Lucifer’s type since he had him come closer.

“I was" Lucifer confirms, letting his eyes trail over the guy from head to toe more pointedly now; if this really is a hunt, he’s a lion hiding in the grass now, a wolf letting his mouth water at the thought of fresh meat between his jaws.

“Do you wanna dance?” the guy asks him, evidently flattered and excited by his attention as so many others have been in the past few years – no, centuries, _millennia_. Better not to think about it too hard or Chloe’s head will explode without getting any fun out of this.

“With pleasure" Lucifer replies, smirking quickly in her direction before accepting the guy’s hand to make his way among the writhing crowd on the dancefloor. Chloe takes the opportunity to turn on the stool again, her back to the counter, so she can observe the scene properly.

Lucifer and the guy dance without touching for a while, whispering something in each other’s ear from time to time: names and pleasantries and flirty, lighthearted comments, Chloe presumes, and jokes that make the guy laugh and Lucifer grin in satisfaction at the reaction. The music makes their hips sway sensually, slowly orbiting toward the other man’s body, until Lucifer’s hands are on the guy’s hips and the guy’s arms are around his neck, playing with the short hair there.

They start teasing each other, noses brushing, fingers squeezing, tension thrumming in the air even from afar until the guy, slightly shorter than Lucifer, pushes himself up on his toes to press his lips to the Devil’s. Lucifer smiles into it, sneaking a peek at Chloe, his gaze heating up as he takes in the flush on her cheeks and her slightly parted lips. Only then he reciprocates, catching the guy’s mouth just as he’s pulling back, biting playfully at his bottom lip before gaining access with his tongue.

What makes Chloe steadily throb with want is how much he seems to _enjoy_ it: it might have started out as a sort of favor to her, the sweet concession of an accepting and open-minded lover, but Lucifer is clearly into it, into _men_. She remembers, from when she interrogated all his recent sexual partners, that most were women, so she assumes he has a preference; but pleasure is pleasure to him, she knows, and he takes it where he finds it and gives it to whoever desires it from him. The manner of it just seems a bit rougher now, bolder, demanding in a way Chloe isn’t sure he would allow himself to be with her.

She is pretty sure she has never seen anything sexier or more masculine than Lucifer grabbing the man’s ass roughly to press him closer as they kiss, slotting their hips together so that they can start grinding against each other to the rhythm of the music. The guy’s hands tighten into fists as they grip Lucifer’s hair more evidently now, the kiss turning downright filthy, broken up by what can only be _moans_ that Chloe can’t hear, but she can see the way their mouths go slack and she knows what Lucifer looks like when he makes those sounds. She shifts on the stool and rubs herself ever so slightly against it, knuckles white around her cocktail glass, the skirt so short it lets the fabric of her panties come in contact with the cold metal surface and send sharper sparks of pleasure up her body, but not nearly enough.

Suddenly, Lucifer spins the guy around to trap him in his predator claws, one arm wrapped around his middle to settle himself in the crease of his ass as their dancing turns dirty, mirroring something else they'd rather be doing; and Chloe doesn’t think she’s ready to let that actually happen but there is no harm in imagining it, in picturing Lucifer bending the guy down right then and there on the dancefloor, his grip firm and unyielding on his hair as he pushes inside and looks at _her_ the whole time.

She feels kind of bad for the guy now, feels like she’s using him, like _they_ are using him for their own amusement as a tool to fulfill a fantasy. But her guilt subsides at least slightly when Lucifer’s free hand yanks the guy’s head back to kiss and bite at his neck, earning himself a full-body shudder, and Chloe officially decides the guy will survive when Lucifer’s other hand leaves his hip to cup the front of his pants, no shame whatsoever despite the fact that they are surrounded by people. And to his credit, no one seems to mind or even spare a glance at them.

Lucifer is whispering something in the ear of his willing prey now, the hand at the top lightly wrapped around his throat like a vine slowly crawling up the trunk of a tree, subtle but relentless. Chloe doesn’t have to guess what he’s saying, it can’t be too different from the dirty, slightly dominating praises and words of encouragement he gives her when his fingers are inside her - _Like this, darling? This is what you desire, isn’t it? Say my name and I'll give you more, and don’t forget “please", love_. And it actually feels like he’s talking to her even now, because his lips might be pressed to the guy’s ear, but his eyes are fixed on Chloe.

She crosses her legs to suppress the fire building between, Lucifer’s eyes darkening at the motion as a satisfied grin spreads across his face – ugh, the smug bastard will never stop reminding her of this, she just knows it. He gets distracted by the guy craning his neck up to kiss him again, then turning in his embrace to press his front to Lucifer’s again. The heat between the two men turns up a notch, fingers hooked in the flesh of each other’s ass deliberately to chase sparks of pleasure from the grinding movements of their hips, mouths hungry and almost ferocious as they pant and groan against each other’s lips, faces scrunched up and eyes clouded with lust.

One of Lucifer’s hands sneaks in the crease of the guy’s ass and presses between his cheeks as the other hoists him up a little higher against his crotch, almost off the floor, but Chloe is pretty sure that it’s his voice that does the trick, whispering something obscene in the guy’s ear when he suddenly tenses up in his grip, mouth open in a wordless cry against Lucifer’s devilish smirk. In the end, it _was_ a hunt, a hunt for pleasure but not Lucifer’s own: he relishes in making _others_ fall apart, Chloe realizes, and honestly it shouldn’t be that big of a discovery considering how much time he spends with his face between her thighs.

The guy is visibly embarrassed by the short time it took for him to come undone, shifting uncomfortably in his pants. Chloe can see him whispering something in Lucifer’s ear and Lucifer shaking his head, probably refusing to have the favor returned or to follow him home or somewhere else equally private. Lucifer tilts the guy’s chin up with his index finger and parts from him with a sweet little peck, leaving him dumbfounded and standing in the middle of the dancefloor looking positively disheveled, with his lips swollen and red, hair messy and breathing rugged.

Not that Lucifer looks so different himself, but the trademark elegance in his stride makes up for the flush on his cheeks, although not so much for the bulge in his pants. Still, he walks back to Chloe with a smile of satisfaction and contentment as if _he_ was the one who just got off, and settles himself between her legs in front of the stool she is occupying.

“Enjoyed the show, Detective?” he smirks, trailing his hands up her legs to stop at her hips over her short skirt, his touch electric because Chloe is positively buzzing.

“Bathroom, _now_” is all she is able to say before grabbing his hand and practically dragging him away from the bar and toward the toilet.

Lucifer is laughing behind her but it dies down soon enough once they find themselves inside a stall and Chloe locks the door only to slam him against it, attacking his mouth and pressing her body against his. He groans at the contact, still obviously hard, and cards his fingers through her hair before moving her backwards to pin her against the sidewall of the stall, her skirt bunching up with the motion. Chloe hooks one leg over his hip to gain some leverage and Lucifer takes the opportunity to sneak a hand behind her and under the skirt, to feel her heat over her panties.

“_Detective_,” he gasps in feigned shock at how wet she is, making her shiver as the pad of one finger presses upwards, “really, just from a bit of kissing?”

“Kissing?” Chloe repeats in disbelief, arching an eyebrow at him. “Lucifer, you got a guy off _in the middle of the dancefloor_.”

“What can I say? It seemed rude to leave him unsatisfied. After all, I have him to thank for _this_” Lucifer grins, index finger sneaking past the fabric to slip inside her. She keens, hands tangled in his hair, and kisses him again as his wrist moves leisurely slow behind her, in time with the rutting of their hips.

The angle is a bit off so after a moment, Lucifer removes his hand from under her to try and resume his ministrations from the front, but Chloe stops him.

“I want _you_” she explains, reaching down to unbuckle his belt in a haste and shove his pants and underwear down. Lucifer responds in kind and swiftly slips her panties down and off her legs before pinning her to the wall again, lifting her up so she can wrap her legs around him.

They have never done it like this, almost fully clothed and in a semi-public place, with _people_ around them, probably even right behind the very thin barrier they are about to fuck against, but Chloe is way past caring once Lucifer is inside her, the miniskirt covering where their bodies now meet. He groans low in his throat at the feeling of her clenching around him (he is bigger than anyone she’s been with and it always takes a moment to adjust but the sensation of being so utterly full and complete is delicious), his fingers digging in the flesh of her ass to start moving her up and down.

Their mouths find each other again as he thrusts, sloppy and desperate, and Chloe’s hands tangle in Lucifer’s hair again over the ghost of the unknown guy's grip – his touch still lingers everywhere, she realizes, from Lucifer’s swollen lips to the taut muscles of his broad back, but only she can have him inside now, and despite her fantasies this is a source of pride she’s not sure she’s ready to give up.

Lucifer maneuvers her at an angle and pushes deeper, making her moan openly for the first time after what so far have been just soft whimpers and mewls, so she quickly lets go of his hair to cover her mouth; the music isn’t as loud in the bathroom and she feels a bit embarrassed at the idea of people hearing her, although what they’re doing should be fairly obvious judging by the way the stall rattles with their movements.

“No, no, no, none of that, dear" Lucifer whispers, one hand coming up to gently pry Chloe’s away from her mouth; then, low and tempting like a snake in her ear, “Let everyone know you have the Devil between your legs.”

The thought itself, taken out of context and detached from the reality of knowing Lucifer, _loving_ Lucifer, sounds like the most sinful of blasphemies, a heresy that, in another time, would have earned Chloe a painful death among the flames. Now the fire is within her instead, surging up from where he’s claiming her from the inside, and she’s not sure which one burns hotter. She complies with his request and rewards him with another moan, abandoning her caution, emboldened and thrilled by how _wrong_ this is.

“Good girl" he purrs in her ear, panting from exertion but relentless in his quest to keep teasing her. “You thought about me fucking him, didn’t you?”

Her breath stutters in her chest at the question, the flush of shame coloring her cheeks, because it’s _weird_, isn’t it? Or at least it feels weird to her _now_ because she never did it before, never imagined a lover with someone else. But then again, none of them was Lucifer, a hunter on the prowl with the whole world at his mercy.

“Don’t be shy, Detective, you can tell me" Lucifer insists as he nips at her earlobe, building up a rhythm that is clearly rushing toward the finish line but unable to stop talking through it - _God, does he ever shut up?_

“I- y-yes, I did" she concedes, whispering in the crook of his neck as the heat mounts steadily between her legs, her hips moving desperately to meet Lucifer’s although it still feels like he is the one directing her, one hand on her ass and the other on the small of her back.

“Mmm, I would have if you'd told me" he reveals, breathing mischief in the skin of her neck he is now mouthing at, his voice dropping even lower than usual but also more serious. “I'do anything you asked of me, Chloe.”

It goes beyond sex and she knows it, and another kind of heat pools warm in her chest before spreading all the way to the tip of her fingers. Nothing has ever rung truer to her than the knowledge that Lucifer would do anything for her, anything to make her happy, to please her in bed and outside of it.

“No, that’s- I thought about it but I- I don’t want you to" she clarifies, pulling back from his neck to stare into his eyes for emphasis. “This - _you_ \- is just for me to have.”

“Greedy" he comments playfully, his mouth suddenly sweet and soothing when he kisses her despite the circumstances. But then, of course, he doubles down, “I could still bring him here with us and have him drop on his knees if you like, or the other way around.”

The lighthearted tone he uses makes the image flash clear and sudden in Chloe’s mind: of Lucifer with his back pressed against the wall, carding his fingers through the man’s hair to guide his head between his legs, eyes fluttering closed and lips parting in awe – he looks almost reverent when she is the one taking him in her mouth, when smug _Detectives_ turn to breathless, pleading _Chloes_ that sound like the prayers he'll never allow himself to send up to the heavens.

“Or I could take him home and let _him_ fuck me instead,” – oh, right, he’s still talking – “my face pressed down into the bed so I can eat you out at the same time.”

He knows she said the penthouse is off-limits but now Chloe is _in_ it, there in her own fantasy with them, and to this impossibly erotic image – Lucifer’s tongue pushing into her in time with another man’s thrusts, mewling in pleasure as he fills and gets filled at the same time – she positively blacks out for a second. She realizes only after a beat that she’s coming with a broken moan as Lucifer rocks her through it, a low, rumbling laugh erupting from his chest at the victory of having found the right button to push.

Chloe sags and slumps on him, her legs suddenly exhausted and cramping where they are wrapped around his hips, arms lazily holding on to him as her head rests on his clothed shoulder. Lucifer senses her tiredness and kisses her sweetly on the cheek, and it only takes a couple of quick, deep thrusts for him to come as well, muffling a gravelly sound of relief in her sweaty hair.

He eases out of her and drops her down gently, keeping her steady when her legs wobble a little after being in the air for so long – how long exactly she doesn’t know, because it feels like they are coming back into the world only now. Chloe shakily reaches for her panties on the floor, trying not to think about how dirty it must be as she puts them back on. Lucifer tucks himself inside his pants and stares at her, lingering on the way she straightens her top and skirt and tries to give her hair a semblance of normality.

“You are so beautiful" he whispers completely out of the blue, heated and passionate, so out of place in the filthy bathroom they just had sex in, and this one, this gaze – Chloe knows it’s only for her to have, too.

Because maybe, just maybe, when it comes to her he is the prey instead, and Chloe knows for a fact she’ll never release him from her clutches.


	2. The Human In You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Chloe fulfill their shared fantasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the lovely @luciferloveschloe who suggested that I write a continuation, which I hadn't thought about in the beginning. Hope you enjoy this dirty little piece of shameless smut with a sprinkle of feelings.

They don’t bring it up for a while, dismissing it as a fantasy that was easily fulfilled, carefully avoiding to mention that a new fantasy was pushed to the forefront of both of their minds (Chloe presumes) when Lucifer whispered it hotly in her ear in the middle of a very dirty quickie in a toilet stall. Just the thought makes her legs quiver and her head spin, but she still feels hesitant at the idea of letting another person in the sanctity (weird choice of word, she knows) of what is now their bedroom. So she doesn’t ask, because she’s not sure she’s ready, and because maybe some things are better left in the hands of fate.

But again, things _happen_ to Chloe, and she is finding it easier and easier to just go with the flow, especially since her life became entangled with philosophical dilemmas about Heaven and Hell, celestial daddy issues and a certain handsome Devil – well, the one and only, since the beginning of time. This is just another piece that clicks into place in the puzzle that is Lucifer’s complex personality, another face of the many he wears, another aspect of his primal, almost ancestral hunt for this sacred force that moves them all like puppets attached to invisible strings: desire.

He asks suspects and witnesses and murderers what is it that they want, crave, long for; watches them drown in their own realization when it turns out to be something vile, forbidden or just unexpected, a rotten core of mischief buried deep where they thought no one would look – not even them. And if he asked Chloe what she desires after what happened in the gay bar, if he was able to actually coax the truth out of her, Chloe is scared the answer would be _your face between my legs and a man inside you_. Which isn’t wrong, just… something she never thought she would want, before.

Lucifer was the one who actually suggested it, reveling in the way it made her fall over the edge against the wall of the bathroom. But in the end, Chloe is the one who hints at it again in a surge of boldness one night, while they’re dancing at Lux. She isn’t that much into partying (not as much as Ella or Lucifer, that’s for sure) but their life is mostly work or late dinners at the penthouse and sometimes she just wants to feel like a woman who enjoys a night out with her man (who is technically not a man), laughing and dancing in his arms.

That’s what she’s doing now, letting Lucifer spin her around with his hand in hers like he did in another lifetime, when Chloe saved Lux from being demolished. He has left the deep burgundy jacket of his suit inside the penthouse and the sleeves of his light grey shirt are rolled up to his elbows, more buttons undone than usual to battle the heat caused by too many bodies moving in the small space of the dancefloor. Chloe’s green dress, short-sleeved and knee-lenght, twirls with her spinning motion that has her looking up at the staircase every once in a while as she throws her head back and giggles, tipsy on love and maybe one cocktail too many.

She sees a man standing at the top, elbows on the railing. Broad shoulders and slim waist, dark hair, slightly tanned skin, clean-shaven. And looking at them. It becomes even more obvious when Lucifer, probably unaware of being watched (not that he would care), pulls Chloe flush against his body, his arms wrapping around her waist as he starts nuzzling at her neck from behind. The guy’s eyes get hooded at the sight, his body shifting on the spot, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat when he swallows.

“Someone likes us" Chloe turns her face to say, whispering secretly in Lucifer’s ear as if reporting a juicy piece of gossip. Intrigued, Lucifer follows her gaze when she turns again until he also spots their one-man audience at the top of the stairs. He tightens his hold on her automatically, hips grinding purposefully into her, and grins at the observer’s reaction.

“Maybe he likes _you_ and I'm making him jealous” he tells her, moving her hair to the other side of her neck to kiss behind her ear, his fingers squeezing at her hips possessively. “I bloody love when that happens.”

“It’s more likely that he’s into you" she says, suppressing a shiver, and with it, the hesitation that still lingers deep down inside her. “You have a very easy way to find out, though.”

It takes him a moment to figure out that she wants him to go ask.

“Oh! Should we… go say hello?” he inquires nonetheless, making sure he didn’t misunderstand her. He’s always very careful about it, especially when it comes to sex; ever the attentive lover, the charmer, the pleaser.

“Only if it’s what you want" Chloe replies: she doesn’t want to force anything on him and just because he said something once, it doesn’t necessarily mean he wants it to leave the realm of possibility and become a reality. _I'do anything you asked of me_, he had said, but Chloe wants _him_ to want it instead, and allow himself to have it.

Lucifer lifts his face from her neck to take a proper look at the man as they sway more gently now, music and people forgotten around them.

“Mmm, I most _certainly_ do" he says, licking his lips, his wolfish and predatory grin all the reassurance Chloe needs to proceed. She isn’t sure he would have allowed himself to be this openly appreciative of someone else in front of her before, but she finds she doesn’t mind it as much as she might have thought. She can’t say for sure that it would be the same if he was talking about a woman, which makes her feel a bit selfish, but she decides not to dwell on it for now and let the night carry her wherever it’s destined to go.

Lucifer steps away from her and circles around her to take her hand. Chloe lets him guide her through the crowd easily parting before him (people would bow to him like subjects in here if he asked, she feels), and together they walk up the steps to stop in front of the guy. He has been watching them this whole time, but still seems surprised at the fact that they are approaching him.

“Hello,” Lucifer intones in his sing-song way (the one that is usually followed by words like _murderer_ or _drug dealers_, but thankfully not this time), “what’s your name, darling?”

“Anthony" the guy says, blinking rapidly as his gaze moves from Lucifer to Chloe and back to him again.

“Lucifer, Morningstar" Lucifer answers his silent question, only then stepping closer to him, but without letting go of Chloe’s hand. “Now tell me, Anthony… what is it that you desire, right now?”

It will never stop being odd or mildly disturbing to watch people’s eyes cloud unnaturally, their gaze lost and unfocused under the Devil’s spell, but it’s undoubtedly hot to watch a wide-eyed Lucifer almost vibrate with anticipation, more so than during police interrogations considering the more personal reason behind the question, in this instance.

“Y-you" comes the answer, followed by the usual blinking and slight confusion; then, in a bolder tone, “I want you.”

“Don’t you all?” Lucifer grins mischievously (Chloe used to be annoyed by how full of himself he is sometimes - _Are you aware of how dickish you sound?_ she remembers asking). “You’ll have to be more specific, dear. What do you des-"

“I want to fuck you" Anthony cuts him off, startling them both with his bluntness and filling Lucifer with a giddiness that Chloe would almost define childlike, if it wasn’t for the nature of the matter they’re actually discussing.

“Marvellous!” he says, bouncing up on his feet, as if the guy just suggested a day trip to the zoo or a night at the opera. “You see, your desire just so happens to align with my lovely lady's wishes… and mine, of course.”

He looks at Chloe for silent confirmation, and she finds herself nodding. Lucifer smiles at her fondly, and it’s in this moment that she knows she would give him anything _he_ desires, anything for this impossible, mildly infuriating being made of raw passion standing in front of her; the most hated in history yet capable of a love so deep that she struggles to match it.

“Care to join us?” Lucifer asks Anthony, then. Another silent nod prompts him to reach out with his free hand and take the man’s in his own.

Together, the three of them walk toward and then step into the elevator, the doors closing behind them and sealing the fate of this night, cutting them off from the outside world. Suddenly it all seems more serious than it should be, at least for Chloe, who feels the unmistakable weight of an impending first time looming over her head. What if this is a mistake? What if the thrill of one careless night, a spur-of-the-moment decision, ends up tainting and ruining their relationship? She always thinks too much, she knows it, but that’s how she is.

As if on cue, Anthony decides to squash her doubts under a metaphorical foot by tilting Lucifer’s face towards him unexpectedly to capture his mouth in a kiss, muffling a sound of surprise from the Devil himself. Lucifer looks at Chloe out of the corner of his eye and, sensing no disapproval in her gaze, slowly lets go of Anthony’s hand to cup his cheek and deepen the kiss, his other hand still squeezing Chloe’s. He pulls her closer to him, almost flush against his side, and breaks away from the man’s lips only to kiss Chloe instead, as Anthony keeps himself busy by attacking his neck.

The heat inside the elevator is already reaching scorching temperatures and they haven’t even made it to the bedroom yet. Chloe feels reassured by the notion, by how oddly easy this seems because she is with Lucifer, after all, and the awkwardness of a stranger invading a space that should be only theirs melts away at least for now. The familiar ding of the elevator doors prompts Lucifer to pull away from her, eyes glazed over and hooded with arousal, and only as they stumble forward Chloe notices Anthony removing his hand from where he’s been stroking Lucifer through his pants during the short ride up.

Lucifer leads them both by the hand in quick strides, walking in the direction of the bedroom, but before they can climb the few steps Anthony gets bold again and abruptly pins Lucifer against a pillar of his Sumerian wall, the motion wrenching Chloe’s hand away from his grasp.

“Let me do this first" he says, unbuckling and unzipping Lucifer’s pants with a hurry that borders on desperate. “I have been thinking about it the whole night.”

Chloe’s mouth can’t help but fall open at the new (but previously pictured in her mind) sight of a man dropping on his knees in front of Lucifer to pull his pants and underwear down his legs and take him in his mouth without missing a beat. For a brief moment she feels the urge to turn away, as if she’s intruding on something private and intimate, watching a man she doesn’t even know in an act that isn’t meant for her eyes to see. But then Lucifer groans low in his throat, his head thrown back against the wall behind him as one hand reaches down to keep Anthony in place by the hair, and _this_ is a sight she can allow herself to enjoy.

“Come here" Lucifer whispers, mouth half-open to let out short, little pants, his free hand gesturing for Chloe to get closer. When she complies, walking to him as if in a daze, he wraps one arm around her and tucks her against his side again, before claiming her mouth in a rough, dirty kiss and _moaning_ in it. The sound travels down Chloe’s body at lightning speed, and she absentmindedly starts rubbing herself against Lucifer’s leg to relieve the pressure.

Anthony, clearly a talented multitasker, notices her predicament, because when Chloe pulls away and looks down she notices his hand hesitantly frozen in mid-air in the direction of her bare leg, wondering if he should trail it up her thigh. She wonders the same but it doesn’t feel right, and honestly, she doesn’t think the guy’s heart is really in it.

“Do you want him to touch you?” Lucifer asks, his tone open and soothing, but the way his fingers unconsciously squeeze her hip tighter lets her know he would let it happen for her sake but not necessarily like it himself. At least when it comes to men, he is possessive of her in a primal way, his eyes almost flaming red if someone looks at her cleavage or legs when she is wearing something more revealing than usual to go out at night.

Chloe shakes her head no and kisses him again, as Anthony’s hand disappears.

“Enjoying yourself?” she teases in a whisper against Lucifer’s lips, breathing in his short little moans with a wicked smile she didn't think she had in her. She finds herself suddenly mirroring them with one of her own when the arm Lucifer has around her waist trails down to grip the curve of her ass and pin her firmly to him almost mercilessly, leaving her to scramble for leverage and friction by grabbing a handful of his hair with one hand and the pale column of his neck with the other.

“Indeed I am. He looks so pretty with me in his mouth” Lucifer tells her, glancing down for emphasis before looking back at her, “although not as much as you do.”

It seems kind of mean for him to say it out loud like this, and Chloe feels a bit bad, but she’s distracted by Lucifer’s other hand temporarily leaving Anthony's hair to reach up and trace the contours of her lips. Lucifer’s eyes are already far gone somewhere beyond rationality, giving him an aura of danger, the look of something wild and fueled by instinct alone. She kisses his thumb and welcomes it in her mouth, and stares back at him with no shame as she sucks, opening up to his ruthlessness because she knows, now, that she can only find comfort and protection in what he is.

He lets out a growl at the look she gives him, removes his thumb and reaches down to push Anthony’s head more firmly on him, while simultaneously hoisting Chloe against his side to devour her mouth again – effectively keeping them both in place where he wants them, something Anthony doesn’t seem to mind if his own muffled sounds of pleasure are anything to go by. But after this moment of possessive desperation, Lucifer relaxes under his ministrations and starts kissing Chloe almost lazily, letting her explore his mouth with her tongue without really responding, lost somewhere in the haze.

The atmosphere shifts again when a soft whimper leaves his mouth, his breath suddenly stuttering in his throat, and Chloe _has_ to find out what had him make the sound. She pulls away and glances down to see that Anthony’s wandering hand has come back with a vengeance, sneaking up between Lucifer’s cheeks to stroke him there, slow and teasing. She swallows as the reality of what is going to happen next starts taking shape in the air around them, but mostly, she feels mesmerized.

“Do you like that?” she asks as she looks back up at Lucifer, taken by a sudden surge of tenderness that has her reaching up to brush the first sweaty, rebellious dark locks away from his forehead. He turns to her with an almost drunken expression on his face, his lips parted and his pale cheeks flushed.

“M-m, it’s nice" he tells her softly, but then his face scrunches up a little and he quickly looks down at Anthony. “Easy, it’s been a while.”

Anthony removes the finger he was clearly trying to push in and pulls away from Lucifer with a wet pop, an apology on his face.

“Let’s go then" he says as he stands up, conveying the apology with a sweet kiss to Lucifer’s lips as Lucifer pulls his pants and underwear back up to be able to walk into the bedroom.

Once inside, they all sit at the edge of the bed. Chloe pulls her dress over her head as the two men undress each other, then scoots back all the way to the headboard in her bra and panties, feeling unsure about letting a stranger see her naked although said stranger will be way too occupied with Lucifer soon enough.

“Condoms and lube are in the nightstand” Lucifer instructs Anthony, before going after her on all fours until he's hovering over her.

“Don’t worry about him" he whispers in her ear as if he just took a peek inside her mind, tugging at the corner of her panties with his index finger. “Please, let me see you.”

Chloe nods wordlessly, focusing on Lucifer’s heated gaze as she lets him slide the garment down and off her legs before reaching between her back and the mattress to unclasp her bra. His eyes cloud further with lust at the sight of her, head coming down to trail kisses from her neck all the way to the slope between her breasts, encouraged by her soft sighs and the way her body can’t help but arch up to follow the heat of his mouth. Chloe whimpers when he kisses one of her nipples, one hand closing in a fist on the sheets as the other cards gently through his pitch-black hair to keep him there.

It would be so easy to let this moment unfold as so many others have before, letting Lucifer press his body down and into her where she aches for him, but she’s suddenly reminded of someone else’s presence when she glimpses Anthony settling on the bed behind Lucifer’s bent figure. Just as Lucifer’s head starts moving downward, leaving kisses and kitten licks along her stomach as her legs open invitingly before him, there is the sound of a cap being opened and closed, a slow movement of Anthony’s arm, and then Lucifer _shudders_, an apologetic look on his face as he arches into it and moves backwards from where Chloe is lying down.

Not that he needs to apologize for anything, because the sight itself is intoxicating: the muscles of his arms and back pulling tight and straining before slowly relaxing and giving in to the sensation, his head thrown back and his mouth only slighty parted in a moan that doesn’t come but trembles on the edge. Chloe glances at Anthony, his hand slowly working inside the magnificent being between them, and almost chuckles to herself at how clueless he is about the nature of her - _their_ \- lover, unaware of the bundle of sheer power that currently lies in his grasp, literally at the tip of one finger. Still, she locks eyes with him for a long moment, as if to tell him _Be gentle. Take care of him for me_.

She doesn’t know if he understood but his touch is clearly well-received, so she scoots down to slide under Lucifer, cradling his head in her hands to let it rest on her stomach as he pants softly.

“How does it feel?” she asks him, fascinated by how pliant he feels under her fingers, almost boneless – the predator turned into prey, crouching down but in surrender.

“Good" he replies with half-lidded eyes, his face leaning and nuzzling into her palm. “It will just take a bit longer to adjust. My pain tolerance is usually higher, Detective, as you’re well aware.”

It takes her a moment but when she understands, she gulps, feeling guilty.

“Oh. I'm- I’m sorry.”

He smiles up at her, looking more beautiful than he's ever looked, or at least it feels that way; drawing her eyes to him like an exotic animal in his habitat, proud and at ease.

“Don’t be. Everything is more real, when you’re here.”

It awakens something visceral in Chloe, the realization that Lucifer experiences everything as a human with her, including sex, and that he _welcomes_ it. She feels the responsibility of making it worth it, but it doesn’t weigh down on her shoulders: it’s empowering instead, almost rewarding. He could go for thousands of years without ever feeling or even knowing what pain is, but gives that up and looks _grateful_ to her for it. And in his willingness to be vulnerable, he has never been stronger in Chloe’s eyes.

She tilts his face toward her and sits up slightly to kiss him tenderly just as another finger clearly enters him, his features scrunching up but quickly softening again: Anthony is rubbing soothing circles on his back with his free hand, Chloe realizes, and the look of gratitude she gives him finally prompts him to bend down and trail kisses up Lucifer’s spine for comfort. Together, silently, they take care of him until he’s ready, knuckles white into the sheets and desperate whimpers escaping his lips as he pushes back and asks for more.

Chloe distantly feels like it should be weird, all of this, the position they are in, but it’s not because it’s _him_ and to find yet another way to make him fall apart is exhilarating, although she’s not sure she’s ready to be the one giving him pleasure in this way in the future – but clearly, you never know.

Anthony’s hand finds its way into Lucifer’s hair as the other settles at his hip. Chloe, now sitting against the headboard again, watches Lucifer’s mouth open slowly as the man behind him pushes inside until their tall, toned bodies are as joined as they can be. Anthony’s tanned skin only highlights how fair and freckled Lucifer’s is, making him look almost otherworldly under the moonlight streaming in from the glass window; he would look so majestic with his wings out, she knows, but that’s not a sight for their friendly stranger to enjoy – not tonight, not ever. That’s yet another thing that is only _hers_.

The two quickly find a rhythm, slow but viciously demanding at the same time: Anthony's fingers will probably leave a bruise around Lucifer’s hip at this rate, a bruise that will disappear once Chloe will be far, but Lucifer doesn’t seem to mind as he meets him in kind, legs spreading wider to give him access. He is a live wire of pure, unbridled energy and Chloe finds herself in a trance, her own pleasure throbbing gently under the surface but not actually demanding anything of him, of herself; content to pool inside without the need for release as the fantasy once again reshapes itself, turning her into an eager observer like she was in the surveillance van and at the edge of the dancefloor of the gay bar.

“You look so beautiful like this" she hears herself say, tilting her head to the side in fascination. “I could just watch you for hours.”

Lucifer laughs breathlessly and for a moment he looks flustered by the compliment, another lovely sight and a rather unusual one.

“That would make me way too sore, Detective" he jokes, before something else in the sentence catches his attention. “But just watching? Oh no, that won’t do _at all_.”

And with that, he seems to suddenly remember he had promised something else out of this night: his hands pull at her calves until she slides down the mattress toward him and his tongue, his wicked, sinful tongue she will probably go to Hell for enjoying too much, licks at her long and deep.

“Oh G- _Lucifer_” she corrects herself in time as she shudders, one hand reaching down to tangle in his hair almost automatically.

“That’s better" he praises her after a dark chuckle, tongue swiping over his upper lip to revel in the taste, a manic look in his eyes – the thrill of the chase has returned to his features and voice, and the hunt is for Chloe’s pleasure this time as his own bliss thrums in his veins.

His arms tremble from the effort of staying upright and not giving in to the temptation of slumping down into the mattress to let the other man do all the work, but when his mouth finds her heat again, his attentions are not as focused and precise as they usually are – which makes it even more arousing, because he moans and groans and whimpers against her and when Chloe’s hand tightens in his hair she can _feel_ it.

Lucifer’s hands spread her before him, hooked in the skin of her inner thighs to pin her in place or maybe to keep himself grounded and steady as Anthony’s pace increases, his low groans the only indication that he’s with them: his hand holds on to Lucifer's shoulder instead of his hair to give them space, to let them have something that is only theirs to enjoy, content to chase his own high. Every now and then he scratches at Lucifer’s back, making him shiver and hiss, the sound sending sparks of lust into Chloe from where Lucifer kisses and licks and sucks between her legs.

"Would have done it a long time back if I knew it would make you this wet, darling" he mumbles almost to himself at one point, gasping for air and staring up at her with hooded eyes. "I'm usually a top but as you know, I can be _very_ versatile, Detec-"

Something shifts in the way Anthony is moving, in the angle of his thrusts, and Chloe playfully thinks to herself: _We finally found a way to shut you up_. Lucifer’s entire body tenses up so violently that she feels it tingling at her fingertips where she’s clutching at his scalp. She releases him slightly to see his eyes roll back into his head, an expression of pure bliss on his face.

“Bloody he- _fuck_, right _there_” he curses and begs, and Chloe can’t help but think about how powerful he is, ruler of demons and prince of the shadows, but human before her and at someone else’s mercy, someone he doesn’t even know but trusts with the task of giving him what he needs.

Chloe does the same, with him, and _oh_, Lucifer _always_ knows what she needs. Probably knowing it won’t be long now, he focuses on her despite how easy it would be to get carried away, latching onto the top of her folds; two fingers inside her, one hand hastily reaching up to pinch at her nipple – a dance he has practiced until mastering it to perfection, a sheet of music he has memorized and engraved in his brain like melodies by Mozart and Bach.

She moans something that is probably a botched version of his name, her grip on his hair forceful and almost cruel again, but he loves it, she knows, because she knows what he needs too and sometimes he has to be the one being claimed, sometimes he has to feel _owned_. He is hers, after all, and this night won’t change it the same way nothing ever will: she knows it deep in her bones, now, whether their paths crossed because of a divine machination or not. It doesn’t truly matter.

She bends forward, almost sitting upright, when she finally comes, shaking against him and around his fingers. And Anthony, bless his heart, chooses this exact moment to reach forward and around and take Lucifer in hand, stroking him in a quick, dirty and efficient rhythm that shows how close he is, too. Chloe is still coming down from her orgasm when they both join her, almost at the same time; Anthony’s head thrown back and Lucifer’s teeth biting down into the first patch of Chloe’s skin he could find, which happened to be somewhere a bit below her knee. It will probably leave a mark, considering her lack of supernatural healing powers, but she doesn’t particularly mind.

Lucifer embodies the very definition of “well fucked" when he slumps down with his head on her stomach, once Anthony eases out of him and gets rid of the condom, tying it and leaving it at the edge of the bed to throw away later. He looks uncertain for a moment, not sure about what to do with himself now, and Chloe feels weirdly compelled to comfort him because he barely made a sound and she thinks he might not have enjoyed this as much as he planned. She gestures for him to come closer as her other hand brushes a mess of sweaty curls away from Lucifer’s forehead, the Devil's sleepy eyes peering up at her like those of a child who waits for a bedtime story.

Anthony lies down next to him on his stomach and caresses Lucifer’s back all the way to his shoulder blades in a sweet motion, and when Lucifer turns his head toward him in surprise, their lips meet again in a kiss that is probably more sensual than everything else they just did; slow and soothing and without the expectation of having to lead anywhere.

Chloe stares at them in wonder, her hand still stroking Lucifer’s hair absentmindedly as they kiss, and quietly realizes that this wasn’t about watching Lucifer with a man, or at least not entirely (okay, maybe it was in the beginning). But in the end, it turned out to be about watching him getting something he wants, watching him being cherished and taken care of, allowing him to let his guard down and lose himself in the moment. Not that he doesn’t, with her, but there is always a hint of expert calculation in his movements, an eagerness to please that always pushes his own desire aside.

“That was… amazing" Anthony says when he pulls back from Lucifer’s face, tentatively looking up at Chloe so that the praise somehow applies to her too, although they basically didn’t even touch. She smiles, not knowing what to say in reply.

“It most definitely was" Lucifer supplies for her, giving the answer a tone of finality when he leans closer to Anthony again to kiss him one last time, lingering around his upper lip with a tender, playful nip before pulling away. Then, “Was it what you desired, my love?”, he asks as he looks at her again.

Chloe melts a little inside at that – no more _Detective_ or _darling_ or _dear_, not _love_ but _my_ love.

“That and more" she tells him, rewarded with a kiss at the center of her palm.

In a bit Anthony will go to the bathroom and then back home, to leave them in their own little bubble, still looking at each other in silence. But for now, the three of them lie down together, like lions sunbathing on a rock overlooking their kingdom, enjoying the bounties of their hunt.


End file.
